Twin Tested Life

Today was a survival day.

It was the first day in a week that I’ve started to feel like myself again after an awful sickness ran through our house. My husband went off to work and for the first time in days, I was alone with my sniffly babies. He didn’t even leave early. It was close to noon. We had already had a good start to the day with both of us home.

And still, almost immediately after he left, the crying started. Back to back. Two babies who still don’t feel great, who don’t understand why snot is constantly running down their faces, who just want to be held the way they were all last week. By both of us.

Today they cried because I can’t hold both babies as close as I want to. And that truth hurts more than I expected.

We are all doing better than we were last Friday when this sickness started, but none of us are anywhere close to one hundred percent. They want comfort. They want closeness. They want arms that don’t have limits.

And I’m just one person.

A build day for me looks very different than it used to. Right now, it looks like one to two hour naps where I can finally sit down and focus. I write a blog post. I work on digital designs. I dream and plan for the future. I feel even the smallest sense of accomplishment. Those days feel light. Hopeful. Like I’m moving forward, even if it’s slowly.

A survival day like today looks like barely any naps. Or what I sometimes call s**t naps, which is probably just the postpartum rage talking. Awake windows filled with doing everything I can to keep two uncomfortable babies calm and entertained on my own. Constant soothing. Constant holding. Constant adjusting. These days feel especially long.

Last week, with my husband home, the days flew by. Today felt like it stretched on forever.

On days like this, I feel behind. I wish I could be two people so I could give both of my babies exactly what they need at the exact moment they need it. I feel overwhelmed, not just by the crying, but by everything else I want to do outside of caring for them.

And yet, caring for them is already more than a full time job. Times two.

I keep reminding myself that just surviving the day is still a full and accomplished day. Even when it doesn’t feel like it.

I am still deeply ambitious. Sometimes so ambitious it almost hurts, especially when I’ve been cooped up in the house for too long. My brain is full of ideas and plans and dreams, with very little time or energy to act on them. That tension is real. Loving this season while also yearning for more room to create.

Other moms tell me I’ll miss these days. Even the hard ones. Even the ones where I feel behind and touched out and exhausted. I know they’re right.

I’m grateful I get to be home with my babies. That I don’t miss a moment. That I get to shape their little souls with mostly my own two hands. This is the most important work I will ever do.

I tell myself that I’ll get back to so many things one day. That I’ll build and create and share all of it with my boys. For now, I’m soaking in the little moments. The cuddles. The need. The closeness.

Some days I build.

Some days I just survive.

Both are moving me forward.

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Thanks for reading. I share daily reflections on twin life, growth, and the quiet beauty of motherhood. Subscribe to keep following the journey.